


A family can be one depressed old cop, his two idnetical android sons and a dog...

by orphan_account



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: 900 isnt going to be much better tbh, 900: you are like little baby watch this, Anxiety, Connor & Upgraded Connor | RK900 are Siblings, Connor (Detroit: Become Human) is Bad at Feelings, Depressed Hank Anderson, Depression, Deviant Upgraded Connor | RK900, Dissociation, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Good Dog Sumo (Detroit: Become Human), Good Parent Hank Anderson, One Big Happy Family, Pacifist Best Ending (Detroit: Become Human), RK900 is a sweetie, References to Depression, Social Anxiety, Stimming, Upgraded Connor | RK900 Has a Different Name, and be like 'what is up my fellow deviants' because he's a mess, because 900 deserves it, connor: im not sure how to act now that ive deviated but im getting there!, connors gonna roll up like that one image of the guy in a hat with a skate board, their family is a mess, you bet youre ass they will be. and its gonna be a mess
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-22
Updated: 2018-10-02
Packaged: 2019-06-30 11:23:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15750678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: The revolution is over, androids are free but Detroit is empty and Connor decides it's now or never for him to go back to New Jericho and set his story straight with Markus.Meanwhile, Hank is now alone with Sumo again and wondering what the ever loving fuck he's gonna do with himseelf until Connor's ready to come back home again, luckily for him a confused and scarily simular faced android comes to him for help giving him at least SOMETHING to do until civilisation comes back to it's senses.((Sequel to '*Slaps Connor affectionately* Fuck em up kid' but can be read seperately.))





	1. *snifs* kids grow up so fast- oh wait now there's another one

**Author's Note:**

> we're in buisness boiiiss!  
> wrote the first chapter from scratch and using my draft notes from the original upload as a small guide line, Obviously this chapter is now a lot more chunky and actually has more depth to it and i added refererences to my previous fic! it's cool if you dont read the first one since this fic is mostly centered on You Know Who and Hank this time around so :) read as you see fit. I have no idea how long this fic will because i only really have a basic ideea down for what i want this to turn into but in all honestly i just want to give nines the family he deserves so :shrug: who knows...we'll burn those bridges when we get to em  
> anyway- enjoooooy!

It’s a few weeks later after Markus’ peaceful revolution that Hank finds himself alone at home  with Sumo once more.

 

Before that however he’d brought Connor back with him after the revolution; meeting the newly deviated detective at the Chicken Feed and wrapping him up in an old jacket to fight off the chilly winds than had been fighting to lock up both of their joints and the cars interior in similar ways. He’d brought him in to Sumo’s lovingly slobbery embrace and piled up cushions and blankets on the sofa, ignoring Connor’s protest of ‘I don’t need to sleep, not really- because androids dont need to sleep they just enter a stasis mode to conserve power-’ and telling him to shut up, humor him and lay down for a few hours to get warm.

 

Connor had done as he was told, grumbling slightly but appreciating the warmth the blankets presented him and before long settled into stasis alongside Hank who curled into the space left near Connor’s feet; drifting off himself due to the previous days anxiety finally fucking off and leaving him with the residual exhaustion as some kind of gift. If he stole one of the blankets thrown over Connor’s legs for himself and the android didn’t notice then he’d say there was no harm done.

 

The pair had revelled in their well deserved down time and spent it doing a whole lot of nothing. Connor would probably lie if asked about it in the future; would say he was spending the time calibrating and looking into the situation around the city as it would still take a while for the rest of humanity to trickle back in and that he was just curious to know about how the humans both young and old were still wary of their once home being 'infested' with deviancy.

 

Even if Markus had proven they were non-violent and just wanted to live free, Hank made sure to bring up time and time again how barbaric it was that humans were still unwilling to believe the peace they had been shown prior, all across the world and on live television nonetheless, as the truth and were STILL cautious and scared for their lives. Its was hilariously sick and he hated it. Connor couldn’t agree more.

 

Hank new better personally of course; saw how his son relaxed into the couch cushions and would play with Sumo at his feet; watched as he finally stopped acting like he had a stick up his ass and let himself relax but also spent the time learning a lot of new things. He was still very new to deviancy and to thoughts and feelings of his own so he’d spent the next few weeks mostly just learning about himself and learning through Hank a variety of emotions he’d yet to place proper names to. Obviously he knew the basics of emotion, having been programmed with a very impressive line of emotional manipulation techniques to get answers from those he was questioning in a variety of ways but one night when talking over dinner about the subject Hank had just laughed at him from across the kitchen table; sipped at his glass of water and motioned to Connor’s face to which he delicately raised a singular eyebrow in question at what his newfound father figure could possibly be laughing at.

 

“Kid, if you start running around trying to interact with people like you’re in an interrogation scene they’re gonna piss off faster than you can say the words ‘28 stab wounds’.”

 

Said kid had just scoffed, looking away from Hank’s teasing glance and down to the coin he was spinning on the table top.

 

He’d managed to keep hold of it throughout the entire revolution ordeal, never once losing sight of his fidget even after Hank had nicked it from him in the broadcasting tower to play with himself. Connor had no idea what he’d do without this coin, maybe steal one of Hank’s from his wallet, who knows, for now though it had made itself a new home mostly in the palm of his hand. He’d put it in his pants so as to not fear dropping it but Hank had made him change out of his old Cyberlife gear and into something the older man had deemed ‘More you.’ but in reality meant ‘Younger me; because all my current clothes are too big for you, the shops are still all closed and I haven’t got anything else so you’re just gonna have to make do with my shit from when i was like 20.’

 

And he honestly wasn’t too fussed really, the new clothes were nice and comfy and _warm,_ something the Cyberlife gear hadn’t ever been, but that also meant he was probably going to lose his coin at some point in the newer clothes if Hank forced him to keep changing, so that’s why it sat in his palm, or more currently at the time spinning on the table under his index finger.

 

“I know how to have a normal conversation with people Hank, I’m not entirely useless at it.” Was what he had finally retorted, taking a chance to glance back up to where he knew Hank was still staring at him over the rim of his glass.

 

And he’d been correct as Hank _had_ been smirking down at what was definitely a pout forming on the androids lips once he’d continued to chuckle into the drink.

 

“Connor, _please_ , when was the last time you had a proper conversation with someone who wasn’t _me._ I _distinctly_ remember you refusing to speak to anyone at the Jericho group once shit had finally been cleaned outta the fan, so much so you were willin’ to sit out in the snow and freeze to death if it meant less conversational interaction…” Hank words were emphasised by the waving of his hand to which Connor had started to watch cautiously, hoping the contents wouldn’t fly out of the glass he was holding and hit either of them in the face.

 

“I’ve spoken to a _lot_ of people before the revolution Hank- speaking to people is my _job-_ ”

 

“Yeah but that was before everything else,” He’d waved his hand again in a sweeping motion after finally having put down the glass, much to Connors relief, and instead reached for his fork but not without giving him a concerned glance. “Don’t forget that _was_ what you were _made_ for, you’re not their shitty puppet anymore remember, you don’t have to do that anymore if you’re now uncomfortable with-”

 

Connor cut him off with a frustrated sigh, looking down at the coin still spinning before glaring up  at him through his eyelashes.

 

“Hank- You know It’s not that I’m uncomfortable with talking to people- I loved working alongside you!” He brung up a hand of his own to wave, sitting up straighter to get his point across. “Finding answers- and questioning people?! Yes it’s what I was made for but that isn’t necessarily a bad thing....it’s that I’m uncomfortable talking to people from _Jericho specifically_ that’s the problem _._ ”

 

The lieutenant had shook his head, stabbing some of the ready made pasta onto his fork and into his mouth before speaking again.

 

“Well, you finally admitted it at least.”

 

Connor had sighed again, falling backwards in defeat into his wooden chair which let out a creak in protest. The coin under his palm had become flattened to the table with the movement so he’d dragged it over to the edge to fiddle with in his lap instead whilst Hank had continued to eat. He was mainly annoyed at himself at all of this. Hank _was_ right and his concern _was_ appreciated but…it’s not like he couldn’t look after himself. Even though Hank cared for him like a son it didn’t mean he was a child, he’d have to own up to things eventually, especially when it came to explaining what had happened between him, Cyberlife and a loaded gun pointing at the back of Markus’ head.

 

“I’ve had enough time to think about it all these past few weeks and i’ve decided it would be best if I went back to Markus and spoke to him sooner rather than later about everything that happened.”

 

At those words Connor looked back up to lock eyes with Hank to show that he _was_ serious and for what it was worth the older man did trust him enough to give him his honest reaction and look surprised at the confession.

 

“Are you sure, Connor? It hasn’t been too long since it all happened. None of us would blame you for taking some more time off and I’m sure Markus would-”

 

That night had become just full of cutting the other one off it seemed.

 

“I’m _sure,_ Hank. Very sure, incredibly sure, the surest sure I have been in a long time.”

 

Hank couldn’t help but snort; Connor had started smirking as he spoke.

 

“Yeah alright, no need to say it anymore, I believe ya-”

 

“Are _you sure_ Hank?”

 

“Connor-”

 

“Because I’m _sure_ none of us would blame you for taking off _some more time to think about it-_ ”

 

At the end of that night Connor had ended up with a face full of pasta. In defense Hank had just told him it wasn’t that good and it looked better on his face and on the floor anyway.

 

With that nights current heavy topic out of the way and Connors ‘sooner rather than later’ mentality on both of their minds, the next morning had seen both of them packing a small bag of things for Connor to take with him to New Jericho. Hank had lazed around the house; picking out a bag from the cupboard and spare clothes he didn’t wear anymore with slow movements  inbetween bites of his jammy toast. He had still been in his pajama shirt and boxers and didn’t really see why they needed to rush, it’s not like New Jericho was actively awaiting the once deviant hunters arrival anyway. Connor however seemed to be a bundle of energy on the sofa, hands fisted amongst the blankets and pillows that haven’t been moved in weeks, just to stop them from rubbing together in excitement.

 

Hank had only scoffed at the sight, the half eaten toast hanging between his teeth causing him to awkwardly mumble his next words since he couldn’t remove it after filling his arms with the items he’d be giving to Connor to put in his bag. He had made sure to walk over slowly as to not drop anything but the slow pace had only seemed to make Connor more jittery.

 

“Whoh awre yooh an whath haff yuh duhn toh mey shun?”

 

“Excuse me?”

 

With a huff he’d dropped all the items over the back of the sofa and onto Connors lap unruly, finally being able to remove the toast from his mouth to speak better but finding apricot jam having smeared all over his chin. He’d wipped at it with a grimace and held his hand out for Sumo to lick at before repeating himself, pointing the toast at Connor in accusation.

 

“Who are you and what have you done to my son?”

 

Connor had leaned back to give Hank a confused stare before shaking his head with a small smile. Turning back around to see what he’d unceremoniously dropped on him with a bit of jittery shuffling he separated the items and dropped an old backpack to lean it against his leg to sort and fold out the spare clothes but instead huffed as he found himself unable to still his hands enough to do the task.

 

“It seems I am incredibly nervous about going back to Jericho. My stress levels are above 56% and are rising as we speak.”

 

Hank had started munching on the toast again but let out a concerned noise anyway before rounding the sofa to sit next to Connor.

 

“Fhuck- really? Kid, I told you if you weren’t up for it you didn’t have to go back straight away…You know I’m not gonna kick you out or nothin’ If you change your mind.”

 

Conor had just settled back with a deep sigh; easing into the blankets and sofa cushions behind him as Hank pat him on the arm in reasurance. Focussing on the warmth around him instead of his stressy thoughts helped him calm down, taking deep breaths to steady his beating thirium pump and shaky fists until the numbers blinked down to a steady 18% in the corner of his peripheral after a few minutes of calm.

 

“I can’t do it another day or I’ll probably end up locking myself in the bathroom. It has to be now or never.”

 

And so they did it.

 

Hank had shoved the rest of his toast in his mouth to help Connor pack the extra clothes, a blue blanket he’d favored over the others, a comb and a wallet with some cash; into the bag. He easily gave up the old jacket he’d originally given to Connor all those weeks ago for him to keep out the cold, before slipping on some pants over his PJ boxers and then they were off to New Jericho.

 

Once reaching the building there wasn’t really any need for goodbyes, Connor had Hanks phone number and would just be a call away from being able to come back and pick him straight back up so they’d left out the mushy crap and Hank had pushed him from the car with a thumbs up, watching stealthily from his seat as the nervous droid made his way up the steps; metaphorical tail between his legs. He’d watched him suck in a cold breath and straighten his back before pushing into the double doors with new found confidence and head held high. It had been like sending Cole off into school alone for the first time and Hank welcomed the memory with a fond smile but realised whilst turning on the engine to drive back home that the thing Connor had picked up on the easiest from him in these last few weeks was the act of being stubborn. He’d decided at the time it suited him.

 

Now, however, as he sits alone with Sumo he wishes guiltily that he’d pushed for Connor to stay over longer. Granted it’s only been a few hours since he’d dropped him off; but the house already feels more empty without him around to steal all the room on the sofa and read every single book on the shelves at top speeds. Once he’d slipped back in to save Sumo from worrying too much and eating a plant or something, Hank had thrown off the pants he’d haphazardly thrown on earlier and lazed back into the comfy confines of PJ lazy days and a mug of coffee to stew in silence once more.

 

‘You never really realise how lonely you are living in a big house on your own until all the other people fuck off and leave you.’ Was the lovingly depressing thought his brain decided to supply to him as he dissociated into his almost empty coffee mug only minutes later. There was no lying to himself now, he was a fucking lonely old fart who needed to get out more and socialise with people other than his dog and his son. Thinking back on it; his whole spiel about Connor having the social skills of a toaster were quite ironic now with the current situation he found himself in. But in all honestly; who would even still be around and _actually want to talk to him at a time like this?_ Half of Detroit was still abandoned; it’s citizens too frightened to come home and see the situation with their own eyes and until Fowler called him in he didn’t have any work to do to take his mind off things. There probably wouldn't even be any crime to report on anyway with all the people gone but it didn’t hurt to want to have a reason to get up off your ass and out of the house now did it?

 

The gods must have been listening to him that day for at that exact moment; there was a knock at the door.

 

Hank sits up with a grunt, annoyed at having to remove himself from the comfy, lazy slouch he’d settled into. Seriously.... _who would even be in Detroit to come a knockin’ at his front door right now? At a time like this?_ Granted it wasn’t late by anyone’s standards, in fact, it was still bright out and the way the light shimmered in through the living room curtains was similar to the first day he’d brought Connor home from the Chicken Feed, but his mental rhetorical question was more one directed at those sane enough to come to him of all people during “humanities time of need in the face of struggling against the incredibly horrific android revolution.” Surely there’s a headline out there with those exact words typed out on it. He’d bet twenty bucks on it.

 

Finally Hank pushes himself up and away from the sofa towards the front door taking his time to walk over and probably taking too long as now the person is ringing his doorbell...continuously.

 

“Yeah yeah, I’m coming! No need to break the damn bell!”

 

All questions seem to fly out along with the wind thats now picking up inside as Hank opens the door to see Connor staring back at him. He pulls away from the bell and looks over to his father, stiff.

 

Somehow Hank drops his mug.

 

Only for Connor to catch it in one fell swoop not one second later.

 

Hank blinks confused, eyebrows twisting up and lips pouting to say something before deciding he should probably take a closer look at the entire person in front of him before making assumptions and realises that no... this _isn’t_ Connor. Just a _very close_ replica of him. There are a few differences he notices however; their eyes are a piercing light blue unlike Connors brown and their clothes are a blinding white instead of the dark black he’s so used to seeing his son in pre-deviancy.

 

“Uhm...Hello. You are...Lieutenant Anderson….yes?” The android mumbles awkwardly holding out the mug for him to take.

 

He ignores them and instead finds himself locked up. Their voice is a few octaves lower even if their current tone is light with confusion and their shoulders are sharper even after having bent forward to offer him his mug back. With a quick once over he also notices that if the android was standing fully upright that they’d be the same height.

 

Hm.

 

He doesn't like that mental image.

 

Hank crosses his arms and frowns.

 

“You ah...you almost dropped this?”

 

They’re still trying to hand him back his mug, inching forward a little bit more to nudge his arm with it but he’s still taking in their appearance and trying to figure out why the fuck a Cyberlife clad android thats wearing _his son’s face_ that he _hasn’t been notified about previously_ is currently _standing in his doorway_ ** _right now._**

 

“You _are_ Lieutenant Anderson, yes? I...haven’t made a mistake in bothering you for nothing, h-have I sir?” A wave of crushing uncertainty sweeps across their face as they look away from him awkwardly, mug still in hand.

 

Hank just sighs.

 

“What the fuck.”


	2. Gettin' to know you~ gettin' to know allll about you~ Well not everything just yet.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hank lets in the mysterious android and gets them up to spead on everything. Then he goes to sleep because the conversation takes forever, he's exhausted and it'd be easier to talk when he's not half asleep and cranky.

The Connor look alike peers at Hank with confusion once more as their eyebrows scrunch together and wrinkle up their forehead. They straighten up at the swear but keep their hand outstretched with the mug still in Hanks personal space for him to take so he relents and finally grabs it. Now that the android is standing up straight they’re eye to eye and its kind of unnerving seeing Connor’s face staring at him so level considering Hanks become so used to looking down slightly to catch his attention. 

 

Once the mug is gone from their hands the android starts to fiddle with the hem of their jacket sleeves before crossing one hand over the over in front of them to forcefully stop the movement. They seem to be having a hard time keeping eye contact in-between the awkward silence that’s settled between them and has started rocking on the balls of their feet so Hank decides to do them a favor and looks over their shoulder at the blowing snow with a huff and breaks the silence. 

 

“Yeah I’m Lieutenant Hank Anderson, who's asking?”

 

Now that he’s not looking at them the android settles its gaze back on him, confusion still all over its face. ‘Maybe they’re not a huge fan of eye contact.’ Hank thinks to himself. He  _ can  _ be a bit intense when he stares; years working in the police force will do that to you.

 

“ _ I’m _ asking, Lieutenant.” They state all too seriously.

 

Hank scoffs. The conversation is starting to sound all too similar to talking to machine Connor not even a few weeks ago. If it wasn’t for how emotive they were and the change of clothes,  Hank would think he’d been teleported back in time to speak to the old Connor.

 

“And who’re you supposed to be?” He asks, head tilting and arms crossing in defence. 

 

He makes sure not to drop his mug again as it sits in the crook of his elbow and spares a glance back to the androids face to see them looking....unsure with themself at the simplest of questions.

 

“Who am I? I…”

 

They make eye contact with Hank for only a second before shifting their gaze away again and behind him into the house as their once straight posture bends in slightly. They look self conscious and scared and seeing Connor like this gives Hank the strong urge to hug them, but he ignores it; reminds himself that this isn’t Connor; it’s just a look alike and keeps himself poised.

 

“I don’t know who I am...that’s why I- I came to  _ you _ , Lieutenant Anderson. I hoped you could help me?”

 

Now it’s Hanks turn to be confused. He scoffs yet again and puts a hand on his hip with a raise of a brow.

 

“And how in the hell am i supposed to do that? Look, you do realise how weird this is right? An android turns up on my door looking like a spittin’ image of Connor not even a few hours after the real deal leaves? And you say you don’t know who you are? C’mon, throw the old dog a bone here, is there something I’m not gettin’? What gives? What’s the punchline?” 

 

He lets out a huffy laugh once he’s finished talking, shrugging up a shoulder and half smiling half smirking at the android as if there’s some big joke he’s not understanding. But when they continue to look away from him, a frown creeping lower and lower down their chin as he rambles; Hanks forced to copy their expression.

 

“You’re serious? You don’t know who you are?”

 

They shake their head side to side, shoulders creeping up towards their ears before answering.

 

“No....I don’t…”

 

“Right...”

 

Well this is definitely a strange predicament Hanks found himself in. 

 

With a sigh he relents and lets his shoulders drop and head fall back. He pulls the door open as he backs up, waving out the hand holding the mug in a motion to invite the android into the house; trying to catch their gaze again as he does so before speaking again.

 

“Come on then, get in here before you freeze your ass off, you’re letting all the cold in.”

 

The android blinks and looks to him unsure before giving him a sharp nod and walking in. They end up crossing their arms and shrinking in on themself as they cross through the threshold into the living room as if it’s suddenly colder in the house than outside but Hank ignores the movement to instead close the door behind them; taking his mug into the kitchen to settle in the sink to wash later before placing both hands on the countertop to have a few moments during the silence to think to himself.

 

So...there’s a Connor look-a-like standing in his living room who has no idea what’s going on and is obviously scared in some way which is obvious from the way they’ve been emoting and moving and talking to him. They’re obviously deviant and know him from somewhere but instead don’t know who they are...it’s a strange situation. 

The first idea Hank has is to call up Connor and explain what’s going on but the kid had only just built up the courage to finally go and speak to those at Jericho on his own early this morning so the thought of interrupting what could be a breakthrough in Connor’s insecurities forces Hank to think of an alternative. 

 

Spinning around to face the android, he leans back against the countertop and folds his arms over his chest to watch them with curiosity. After a few seconds of loitering they notice his stare and stand up straighter to copying his stance, furrowed eyebrows and all, before dropping back to their original slight bend and looking away to take in the house around them as if deciding scowling at Hank was a bad idea before they’d even started. He raises an eyebrow but otherwise doesn’t question it.

 

‘It’s best if I just wing it like I did with Connor...but not act like as much of a dick considering how they’re acting thus far...’ 

 

With a small sigh he decides on a solution:

He should find out as much as he could about the android from them first hand before asking outside sources about the situation just so some sort of trust could start to form between them incase anything were to happen. 

 

From how hesitant they’d been around him so far there was a chance that it might be hard to get them to talk but there was no point jumping to conclusions before he’s even started, so after summoning all of the energy he has left from this morning and forcing it into being a actually socially stable human being; Hank pushes off from the counter and towards the spot near the sofa arm the android has skittishly settled on.

 

“What’s your name?” He starts, hoping his now calmer tone of voice isn’t confusing to the android after how sarcastic and loud he’d been prior.

 

It’s a relatively simple question after all, but even still the android looks uncertain.

 

“I...don’t think I have one…?”

 

“Hmm? Do you not have one registered?”

 

“Registered…?”

 

Oh boy.

 

Hank sighs, places a hand on his forehead and drags it back through his hair to scratch at his scalp to think of the best way to explain it.

 

“Ok so....All androids were given a name upon start up, be it from a previous owner or manufacturer, and told to ‘register it’ as something to respond to when called upon...Most-” 

 

He stops for a second to see if they’re listening and finds piercing blue eyes staring right at him as he speaks. The gaze is quite intense but they’re obviously interested in what he has to say if they’re actually looking at him instead of around the house so he continues whilst keeping eye contact.

 

“Uh- most have stuck to their registered names after the revolution but I suppose it’s not uncommon for a lot of ‘em to have changed their names to something they prefer now that they’ve deviated...since they’re free and they’re their own person now; not under the control of their owners yada yada- it’s probably really thrilling for them now that they get to pick out their own name….uh- you get what I mean?”

 

They hadn’t looked away, even as he’d started rambling, but they nod once he’s done. Their gaze had been unblinking and it was kind of creepy since their face had become completely blank but then it’s like a switch has been flipped and they go back to awkwardly looking at the walls and floor as if they’re the most interesting things in the world.

 

“Ah...yes, that makes sense...but I’m afraid I don’t know what uh… ‘revolution’ you’re talking about…nor what ‘deviated’ means...”

 

Hank splutters.

 

“Fuckin’- wh- really? You were serious about not knowin’ anything weren’t you?” 

 

The android nods, head still turned to the side.

 

“Alright- we’ll get to that later I guess...christ uh- first things first though,  _ you need _ a name, so I don’t have to keep calling you ‘android’ in my head.” 

 

He points a finger at them whilst saying ‘you’ before looking down at the designated number on their jacket only slightly obscured by their still crossed arms. ‘RK900’ it reads and he tilts his head in thought.

 

“RK900, huh? Hmm...how about uhhh...900 for short until you figure something out?”

 

Hank can see the cogs turning in their head as they look down at the printed digits and think it over before finally giving him a nod. 

 

“I suppose it will have to do...I don’t know what the numbers stand for but-”

 

“That’s your series number.” Hank interrupts.

 

900 looks up and the piercing eyes are back on him again. Hank notes that it seems when they’re learning new things they’re able to ignore their insecurities for a little while and keep eye contact but normal conversation seems to be awkward. He’ll have to keep that in mind. Maybe info dumping on them wouldn’t be as bad as he’d thought it might be.

 

“Whats tha-”

 

“Connor was an RK800 model, since you look like him and your number is 900 coming after his 800 I’m guessing you were supposed to be his successor in the line of RK detective models and naturally they chose 900 cuz it comes straight after 800. Don’t hold that against me though, I could be talking outta my ass for all I know; I’ve only ever seen another Connor model once in my life; he was still an 800 model and yet he tried to kill me.”

 

They blink.

 

“What makes detective models special from other androids?”

 

Jesus christ they were gonna be here a while.

 

\----

 

The first thing Hank makes sure to do before answering any more questions and catching 900 up to speed on the revolution is to get them some warm blankets. He doesn’t have any super scanning android eyesight to tell him 900’s exact body temperature but he can automatically tell that they’re cold from the way they’re hunched over and still folding their arms into their armpits to preserve heat even when sitting on his sofa. Hank hadn’t really noticed the cold from this morning even if he’d only really been wearing the bare minimum clothing to drop Connor off to New Jericho but at least he had body fat and a lot of hair to trap heat against. 900 however looked exactly like Connor before getting rid of his old Cyberlife suit; cold and uncomfortable. Granted 900 was taller and had broader shoulders but that wouldn’t do jack shit for them against the chilly Detroit winds if all they had on was a basic bitch plastic suit.

 

900 had been skeptical when asked if they wanted to sit. Maybe Hank’s sudden hospitality was strange to them but... _ well _ ...they were the one who seeked him out for help in the first place. Maybe they hadn’t expected him to help at all, it would explain why they were so cautious of everything. Hank reminds himself to ask how they knew his name and how they’d found him but that would have to be saved for later though because  _ god _ there was so much he needed to explain about the revolution.

 

In the end they’d relented and sat on top of Connors old blanket pile in the corner of the sofa. Hank had warned them if Connor found out they’d stolen his spot he’d kick them out but they’d just shrugged and settled into the seat. He’d done what he’d done to Connor previously a few weeks ago and dumps his last few blankets on them from over their shoulder with a smirk.

 

“These are the last ones I have,” He’d teased. “You two are gonna make me blanket broke.”

 

They’d simply shrugged again and fisted their hands into the fabric but made no move to actually use the blankets for their intended purpose. Hank had to tap them on the shoulder and tell them to warm up before it actually happened.

 

“C’mon, take off the straight jacket, its looks  _ super _ uncomfortable, plus it’s just holding onto the cold.”

 

A few seconds pass before 900 pulls their arms out of the jacket. Hank can see their hesitation as clear as day and doesn’t blame them but knows it’d be better to take off the item and replace it with a good fluffy warmth that only blankets can provide. Once the jacket is removed from their shoulders Hank holds out a hand for them to pass it over and once again there’s some hesitation in their movements so he makes sure to reassure them he’s not going to throw away the jacket or something.

 

“Don’t worry, 900, I’m just gonna hang it over the heater to get warm, you won’t lose it I promise.”

 

They take his word on it hand it over. When it had been in his grasp Hank remembers it felt like sticking his hand in the freezer it was  _ that  _ cold to the touch, he couldn’t even imagine what it must have been like to wear the item out in the weather outside; it definitely wasn’t made for comfort in mind.

 

Only when 900 was finally wrapped up in the blankets and comfortably snuggled into the cushions did Hank decide to explain what happened during the revolution. 

 

He told them about how he and Connor met, how they worked on the deviant cases and what a deviant was, he explained to 900 that they were a deviant too and how the act of deviating had affected Connor and his mission; about how the deviant hunter became deviant himself and why at the time it had been so scary; but now that they were all free it was something to celebrate and explore. He explained what happened in Cyberlife tower and brought up the second RK800 Connor model again that had tricked him into “helping him” when in reality it had just wanted to use him as a bargaining chip against the real Connor to stop him from deviating all the stored android models as well as everything he’d seen and learnt and everything that had happened up until just a few weeks ago.

 

It took quite a few hours to get through it all, especially with how often 900 stopped him to ask questions about lots of different things like; What does Markus look like? Whose ‘Gavin Reed?’ etc but they eventually got through it all. 

 

It’s past dinner time when they’re finally finished and 900 had been invested in it the entire time.

 

Hank felt exhausted by the end of it; they’d been doing a  _ lot _ of talking and half way through he’d had to get a glass of water just so he wouldn’t lose his voice but it was definitely worth it to watch 900 hang on to his every word as they listened with rapt attention at learning the history of their kind in all but a matter of a few hours. He swore he hadn’t seen them blink the entire time they were so enrolled in everything he had to say and it would be almost flattering if it wasn’t also kinda creepy. Maybe he could mention that they should probably blink more but he didn’t want to make them uncomfortable in any way. It would be a slippery slope talking to each other until they got to know one other better.

 

It’s not until they’ve finished talking whilst Hanks downing the rest of his water and 900 is looking almost sleepy underneath their 3 blankets that Sumo decides to trot on over from his bed and bump into his owner’s knee with his wet snout.

 

“Hey buddy…” Hank croaks, leaning down to scratch a hand over Sumos scruffy head lovingly. “You finally decided to wake up, huh?”

 

Sumo huffs under the touch and jumps his front paws up on Hanks lap to get close enough to his face to lick his nose. At the motion Hank laughs, pulling his head back and away from the dogs excited musing before looking over to his right casually to see 900 peeking out from under a blanket they’ve brought up over their nose. Their eyes are wide as they stare down at Sumo and at first Hank mistakes the look as fear but then he can see their eyes crinkling a little bit and if the blanket wasn’t covering half of their face he’d very plainly see a smile slowly lighting up the androids face.

 

“Oh yeah, I forgot to introduce you two...900, this is Sumo,” He raises his voice a little bit higher in a way to try and make his dog more excited. “And Sumo! This is RK900! They’re gonna be staying with us a lil while!” 

 

Hank looks away from 900 to go back to petting Sumo, not really wanting to see their reaction to his sudden statement so instead he cups the dogs face with both hands and makes a chuffing noise as he scratches his cheeks. As expected Sumo starts wiggling excited at both the happy tone his owner is speaking in and at the silly noises he makes and he lets out a few barks, 900 also makes a few confused noises from under the covers.

 

“Wait- what-what do you mean… ‘staying with us a little while’? We never spoke about...anything like that?!”

 

Hank just shrugs, throws the android a smirk before turning back to playing with his now very excited dog who is trying to jump up on his lap.

 

“Heh, easy Sumo- easy! Well, kid!- I don’t know much of anything about you yet but I do know one thing; I’m not letting you sit out on the freezing cold streets tonight; especially in those crappy clothes you’re wearing. There’s obviously a lot more that needs discussing between you and me, mainly; how in the fuck did you even know my name and think to come here in the first place, but there’s already been a lot of things said today and my throat is fucking  _ killing _ me, so unless you already have somewhere to stay, you’re more than welcome to crash at my place until we can figure you out.” 

 

From the corner of his eye Hank can see 900 leaning forward in their seat; the blanket covering their face falling away to reveal a hesitant smile. 

 

“I….I don’t know what to say...I…”

 

“Just say ‘thanks’ for now, kid, we don’t have to go into anything deeper tonight, there’s always another day and I’m gettin’ pretty tired, if we talk about something else for another 5 more hours I’m literally gonna  _ die _ .”

 

900 actually giggles in response and Hank has to do a double take when he hears it. Glancing at them he can see they’re taken aback at the noise themself but don’t seem to question it, instead saying;

 

“Lieutenant, I don’t know a lot of things but something I do know is that humans can’t talk themselves to death...But...yes, thank you for hearing me out and uhm...letting me stay the night...”

 

Hank snorts, smirks at 900 and takes a risk by ruffling their hair. They stiffen slightly at the movement but don’t make a move to push him away. He ends up leaving their hair a mess; breaking it from the ever perfect comb over Connor has kept up even after devianting and they watch him push Sumo away and stand and stretch his hands over his head. Sumo instead sits in-front of them, sending curios dark eyes on their similar face.

 

“Yeah yeah, it’s fine. I’m not lyin’ though when I say I’m  _ pretty fuckin tired _ . Today’s been... _ long _ …and I want to sleep. We can talk more tomorrow, yeah?”

 

900 just nods silently, bringing up a hand to smoove down the strands of hair Hank had tousled loose. With a blink they’re face to face with Sumo and they reach their hand down from their head to land it on Sumos instead. It’s a clunky, hard pat to the animals skull but they find themself surprised at how soft the dogs fur ends up being between their fingers. They hear Hank shuffle around the sofa before stopping.

 

“You’ll be okay in here whilst I sleep, right? Connor mentioned androids don’t really need to but...well, I won’t blame yah if you need to have a snooze. Sumo shouldn’t bother you whilst you’re in here, might just be interested in the new face stinking up the house but he’s a good boy.”

 

As if to prove the point, said good boy shuffles forward to lick at 900’s face and the android hums in surprise.

 

“Wait- ‘stinking up the house’ Wh-?” They turn with another question on their tongue only to see Hank smirking at them in the hallway.

 

“Yeah, you stink. You ever heard of a shower? Actually no, don’t answer that- you know what? No more talking. It’s sleep time. Use the sofa if you wan’t, wake me up if Sumo needs a piss. See you in the morning kiddo.” 

 

And then he’s gone, waving over his shoulder as he closes the bedroom door behind him, leaving 900 to fend for themself for the night against an overly excitable dog and their own curiosity.


	3. Emotional dissaster on main

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 900 learns that people food is weird and things get a bit emotional really fast...like...0 to 100 really fast.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((hhhhhhh sorry this is kinda late but here it be! chapter 3! pls enjoy because...shit only gets more real from here!...kinda...))

Now on their lonesome 900 has absolutely no idea what to do with themself. They  _ could _ do what Hank had suggested and go to sleep but...they found themself too jittery to do so and again like Hank had said it’s not like they really needed it; from the corner of their eye they could see their internal power percentage hovering around the 70% marker so it’s not like there was any need to top up the power until later, right?

 

The living room had become shrouded in darkness once Hank had gone off to sleep, having turned off the lights on his way to the corridor, now only the slight light from 900’s LED illuminated the room in it’s dull tones. Currently it was yellow and from where they sat it lit up Sumo’s smug fluffy mug in-between 900’s legs. He hadn’t moved and was still very intent on staring 900 down until they gave him more attention so they did just that.

 

Turning back to the dog, 900 copied the movement they’d seen the lieutenant doing earlier; grabbing both sides of Sumo’s face and ruffling their fingers through his fur. It helped ease some of their sudden jitters to occupy their hands with something but at the same time they knew they couldn’t do it forever as to annoy the dog, so after a few moments they stopped the movement to gaze at Sumo’s dopey expression instead. He seemed very content with all the attention he’d been receiving lately; luckily for now no longer wanting to jump up on someone’s lap. 900 had no idea what they’d do if the St. Bernard tried to squash them, probably just let it happen and become stuck for the rest of the night….worse things could definitely happen to them.

 

Hopefully not....

 

900 squints in the dark and takes a look around the living room, their eyes adjust to the low light automatically, allowing them to make out the room around them. After having been invited in by the lieutenant and with the revolution talk, being the most important thing explained to them, taking so long; there hadn’t really been any time to take in Hank’s house nor what kind of person he could be. Plus, they’d just been super invested in the information dump Hank was so willing to give about deviants, mainly just about the deviants though, any talk about himself was slightly closed off. If 900’s conclusion was correct then they’d guess he wasn’t confident in trusting them with personal information yet, which was fair because they had literally come out of nowhere. 

 

They really wanted to get all of the formalities out of the way; the where, why and how of their own being, to learn more about androids and discuss things that were important but if Hank wasn’t willing to share and was tired from the previous long talk then they wouldn’t force him to sleep deprive himself just to fulfill their own wishes. They’d been alone and unknowing since they’d awoken; going another few hours without answered questions would be... _fine._  

 

900 gritts their teeth.

 

The hundreds of questions still swirled around in their head and their fingers were still jittery but they’d deal with it. Maybe they could quench their thirst for knowledge by learning things about Hank from looking at things around his living room? From where they sit there are quite a few interesting things to look at... 

 

Behind them is a shelf full of paperback books, after a quick scan it’s revealed that they’re all very old, some are peeling and are obviously well read if the state of their cracked spines is anything to go by. To their right is a computer, potted plants sit on the desk next to it and after a quick glance around the room 900 notices that there are lots of different plants in different states of life and decay sitting about; slim vines hang over the front of the fireplace (that’s surely a fire hazard…) and there’s what looks to be like a fern sat hidden near the television with a few of the leaves missing and others with big chunks taken out of them. From where they sit on the sofa 900 can just make out the bite marks on the leaves and quirks their lips at Sumo; the obvious culprit.

 

Whilst lazily gazing at the lieutenants personal items, 900 unconsciously starts fidgeting with their black shirt sleeves; a habit they had picked up to keep their hands busy. The fidget had not come without consequences however as the white plastic of their old Cyberlife jacket had started to wring out and split around the cuffs; easily breaking due to a combination of the cold and constant fidgety hands. 900 really didn’t want their shirt to fall to the same fate, it was nice! The tall collar kept their neck warm and the colour would attract any sunlight that managed to peak through the clouds, but now that they were inside...blankets wrapped around them...perhaps they wouldn’t need to worry about their clothes any longer...

 

A circular object amongst magazines and old dirty mugs catches their attention on the coffee table. It was small but reflected light from their LED so they reached over the armrest to pick it up in curiosity. Upon closer inspection they can see it’s an old silver coin, it’s edges and indents look smoothed over from constant attention and from the age of printing it’s easy to tell that it’s not just some coin that’s been left in Hank’s pocket and has instead been used to flip between fingers as a fidget. Interesting!

 

With slow, inexperienced movements; they move the coin from one hand to the other through their fingertips. The coin feels cold, hard, impersonal and flat, they frown at the touch but continue with the movements anyway because it gives their hands something to do and they’d rather not ruin the cuffs of their shirt.

 

Sumo, upon realising that 900’s attention is elsewhere; trods back over to his favorite resting spot near the television and plops down onto the carpet to snooze. 900 watches the movement in a daze as they fiddle with the coin, finds themself staring at Sumo as his chest rises and falls until it levels out to indicate he’s asleep and time seems to slow down as their eyes unfocus, the room blurs and the only movement is from their hands as the coin is moved to and fro, it bounces on their palm once, twice then suddenly there’s sound of a door opening and they blink back to the present, body jolting from the haze and causing them to drop the coin to the carpet below near their feet.

 

With another blink they look down to the floor and realise that they’d never taken off their shoes. Was it impolite to keep your shoes on indoors? Would it have been weird to take off their shoes in basically a strangers house? Yes, Hank was letting them stay the night but what was the proper etiquette when entering into someone’s home as a guest? Were they tracking mud all over the floor? Should they ask Hank?

 

“Lieutenant,” 900 starts in a dull tone. 

 

There’s a gasp in surprise from behind them but they ignore it to lean down and pick up the coin. 

 

“Should I have taken off my shoes when I came in? I’m...not sure if it’s considered ‘rude’ to keep them on when i’m uh…” 900 sits up and finally turns at the sound of Hank swearing under his breath. They furrow their eyebrows once they turn to see him with a hand over his heart. “Uhm- are you alright?”

 

Hank waves a hand at them in dismissal and takes a slow deep breath. His hair is a mess and he has a dirty grey dressing gown on over his clothes that 900 hasn’t seen him change out of ever since they first saw him earlier that day.

 

“Yeah i’m...fine. Fuckin’ hell kid, you almost gave me a heart attack...you’re still up?” He responds, sounding out of breath from the scare.

 

900 just answers with a curt nod but rises a brow in question. Before they ask their next question they turn back around to lean into the sofa comfortably so they don’t have to provide eye contact.

 

“I...don’t see the need to go to sleep right now...I’m at about 70 percent power. I should be fine for another few weeks...Why are you up, Lieutenant?”

 

Hank sniffs as he pads into the kitchen.

 

“Hungry.” 

 

900 had continued to twist the coin between their fingers. With a slight twist of the neck they can see Hank shuffling around the kitchen from the corner of their eye and they furrowed their brows together once again.

 

“Shouldn’t you have eaten before you tried to sleep?”

 

“I  _ have _ been asleep. Damn stomach woke me up though, couldn’t get back to it cuz I was an idiot and I haven’t eaten since this morning…”

 

900 just furrows their brows even harder. 

 

“...How long have you been asleep, Lieutenant?”

 

“Few hours, why?” Hank twists at his position in-front of the fridge, turning to look at 900 with a jug of milk in hand.

 

“I- has it really been hours?” 900 wonders, their voice soft and in contemplation. 

 

In just a few seconds 900 speeds through their recorded footage taken of the past 5 hours and finds it’s just them sitting on the sofa motionless as they fiddle the coin between their hand for the full duration. So it was around 6am? And they’d just been sat still since 1am staring into space? That was slightly unnerving…

 

“Uh,  _ yeaaaah _ . That’s why I got so spooked upon hearing your voice, ya dope. I expected you to have powered down by now just to pass the time between night and day- the heck have you been doing?”

 

Hank closes the door to the fridge and drops the milk to the kitchen table, next he drags over a bowl and some cereals from his counter and as he’s grabbing a spoon 900 responds sounding absolutely confuddled with themself.

 

“I’m...not sure…?” 

 

Hank can see their confused features even if they’re trying to hide their face and just snorts.

 

“Fuckin’ what? Kid, did you just fuckin’ disassociate for like the entire time I was asleep?”

 

900’s face morphs into a confused grimace.

 

“Yeeees….?”

 

Hank can’t help but laugh.

 

“You coulda...I dunno read a book or something? You didn’t have to just sit there, 900, if you wanted something to do you could have just asked me.”

 

They look almost offended at the suggestion and shuffle around awkwardly so Hank drops it; shaking his head with a smirk. Once he picks up his spoon and plops down into one of the wooden chairs around the table he calls out to the android across the room.

 

“It’s fine, 900, it’s something that can happen sometimes, just forget about it..” 

 

He sniffs once more before pouring out a helping of corn flakes into the bowl. Two curious blue eyes stare at him from the sofa as he pours the milk and he fills the bowl until he can see it just about peeking up from under the flakes. Too much milk and the cereals will become a mushy mess; too little and then there’s not enough to keep the fine balance between milk and flakes upon each spoon full. Once satisfied, he caps the milk before looking up to 900’s curious stare with a smile. 

 

“Can I help you?”

 

“Uhhhh- Yes. You....never answered my question about my…shoes.” 900 seems unsure about their response and looks away.

 

“What about ‘em?” Spoon in hand Hank digs into the bowl and shovels a good helping of the flakes into his mouth.

 

“Hm...should I have taken them off when I first came in? I don’t...know if keeping them on inside is considered ‘rude’...?” Their eyes drift to the bowl and look on interested at the contents inside curiously.

 

“Do whatever you like, kid, you can walk around my house barefoot if you damn well please, i’d just be careful of Sumo though, he likes to lick people a  _ lot _ so you might get wet feet.”

 

His answer seems to have pleased the android and they hum in contemplation. After a few seconds they toe off their shoes and the footwear slips easily from their feet to reveal the greys of their socks. Satisfied, they look back up towards Hank’s food and it makes the older man pause in thought before his next spoonful.

 

“You keep looking at my food, anything on your mind?” He ends up asking.

 

“Not really...I just know that cereals are considered....a breakfast food…” 900 answers slowly.

 

“And?”

 

“It is six forty one am....” They deadpan.

 

Hank just smirks.

 

“ _ Aaaand?” _

 

“D-don’t people usually  _ not eat _ at six am?”

 

“Well, depends when they get up, lots of early bird fuckers get up at 6am.”

 

“But you’ll just get up to eat and go to sleep again afterwards?”

 

Hank just shrugs and shoves more flakes into his mouth.

 

“Hehy I wass h-ungry okey?” He swallows and points his spoon towards the confused android with a raised brow. “Quick question; can androids eat?”

 

900 looks on in contemplation and Hank can almost see the cogs turning in their head as they think it over. 900 watches Hank slip the spoon back into the bowl to stop any of the milk dripping onto the wooden surface as they scan their systems to see if they can find the answer in themself somehow. No answer comes back to them so they shrug, eyes still on the bowl.

 

“Dunno…” 

 

They watch interested as Hank spins around to grab another spoon from his counter and holds it out in the air in his left palm towards them with a tilt of his head.

 

“Wanna find out?”

 

900 blinks slowly and stares at the extra spoon as if it’s an alien object. Hank wiggles his wrist in invitation before nodding down at the half eaten bowl.

 

“C’mon kid, hurry it up or it’s gonna get all mushy and crap.”

 

“Hmm….”

 

They smoothly transition from laid back on the sofa to awkwardly perched in a wooden chair across from the offered spoon and after a few more seconds take the object tentatively in their right hand. Their other hand still fiddles with the previously found coin and Hank notices it in surprise whilst scooting the bowl forward across the table. 

 

“Oh hey, that’s Connor’s coin, where’d you find that?”

 

He looks between 900’s gaze and the silver as they scoop up a small portion of flakes and milk onto the spoon, they begin to speak as they gingerly lift it up towards their mouth.

 

“It was on the table. Should I have left it alone?” They glance up worried before looking back to the spoon.

 

Hank just lets out a little sigh.

 

“Nah it’s fine, you keep hold of it for now, he’ll be glad to get it back later, though. Poor kid probably won’t know what to do with his hands unless he got hold of somethin’ else…”

 

900 takes a moment to ponder on that information before pushing the spoon into their mouth with a hum. The sensation of something in their mouth is strange but the taste is incredibly interesting and new, swallowing is also weird but they get through it albeit choking slightly as the feeling is foreign. Hank reaches out a concerned hand but 900 just waves him away as they begin to chew on the corn flakes.

 

“I-I’m f-ine, ugh, ow…mh...this feels weird…”

 

“Heh...yeah, I suppose eating would be weird your first time around. You good though? Nothin’ gonna explode?” He asks anyway,  _ hoping _ it was a good idea for the android to try food.

 

900 furrows their eyebrows as they think it over. They aren’t getting any warning signs nor does anything inside them feel off so they swallow the cereals to join the milk. It had definitely tasted interesting; the only thing they’d tasted in the few weeks since their activation having been snow and even then that had just been water so...food was definitely something strange and new and they honestly couldn’t tell if they enjoyed it or not. The crunch at first had been unpleasant but it became bearable after they chewed long enough. 

 

In the end they decided that the milk was pleasant but the corn flakes were  _ not _ .

 

“My body seems to have accepted it but....I didn’t like how hard the corn flakes were; the crunch wasn’t very appealing...felt weird on my teeth.” 900 grimaces as they can feel small bits are stuck between their fake gums with their tongue. “This isn’t a very pleasant feeling at all- how can you eat that?!”

 

Hank chuckles as he continues to eat; the cereals are all gone by the time 900 has finished picking out the pieces from their gums having reverted to using their fingers to get rid of the pieces. Annoyingly they can taste the silver coin on their finger tips from where it’s been fidgeted with between their hands for so long and they stick out their tongue in disgust. 

 

“Don’t like that.” They conclude, pushing the coin out of their palm and across the table top until it’s within Hank’s reach.

 

The Lieutenant glances down at the offered coin with a snort as he wipes away any dripping milk from his mouth and beard. He takes the bowl and spoons wordlessly to the sink and puts them down for another time when it’s not almost fucking 7am and turns to lean against the counter to smirk at 900, hands dropping into his dressing gowns sleeves lazily.

 

“You’re not supposed to lick the coins.”

 

900 almost looks like they’re pouting.  _ Almost. _

 

“But I didn’t…”

 

“Kid, that stuff’ll rub off on your hands y’know, especially if you mess with it as a fidget like Connor does...wait was that what you were doing for 5 hours?”

 

900 has the decency to look slightly embarrassed at not realising that  _ yes _ the coin would rub off on their hands and that  _ yes _ they had been fidgeting with it for way too long. They wouldn’t admit that though.

 

“...Maybe…”

 

Hank just shakes his head with a small smile.

 

“If you’re gonna use a coin as a fidget at least wash your hands before you go sticking ‘em in your mouth, you damn fool. Sink’s  _ literally _ right here.” He pulls a hand from his pocket to motion to said sink just behind him. 

 

900 nods, standing up to clean their hands of the disgusting taste (and smell) and Hank moves out of the way to let them do so. As they let the water run over their fingers Hank scratches a hand through his messy locks and yawns. It’s late. Or early. Or for some people just the right time to wake up.

 

But for Hank it’s just the right time to go  _ back to bed. _

 

“Right….well...now that’s outta the way, hopefully I can get back to sleep. Exhaustion is a bitch,” He moves a few steps forward before stopping in thought. “Oh yeah right- kid,  _ please _ find something to do whilst I’m asleep, knowing you were just sittin’ there doing  _ nothing _ all night is just really depressing.”

 

900 flicks the water from their hands into the sink and watches the droplets slowly roll down the drain as Hank speaks.

 

“If I’m completely honest Lieutenant...I’m not sure what I should do with myself…”

 

Hank sighs and 900 turns his way.

 

“Hell...uhh, look, you’re free to look around the house? I’ve got some books you could read,” He raises an eyebrow and gestures to the wooden shelf that he’d mentioned and what 900 had observed earlier, then to the computer near the door. “Computers just over there as well, feel free to knock yourself out with that- uhhh- you could play with Sumo?”

 

900 looks on awkwardly as Hank points on at each different suggestion, their arms wrapping around themself for support. They find themself missing the blanket from earlier. Hank watches them and just shrugs apologetically.

 

“Shit....listen, I’m not gonna force you to do anything, ok? I’m just sayin’; for your own sanity  _ and mine;  _ find something to do just to pass the time. You’re gonna go crazy if you just sit around doing nothing until I wake up again…”

 

900 gives Hank a single nod and he’s surprised when they initiate eye contact. 

 

“Okay Lieutenant, don’t worry about me, I’ll make sure to occupy myself...I don’t like the idea of...dissociating...for any more hours than I have already…”

 

“That’s the spirit,” He goes to turn back to the hallway but remembers one last thing and spins back around quickly. “Oh- and by the way, you can stop calling me ‘Lieutenant’ y’know. You’ve known my first name ever since you came up to my door and started asking me things, I  _ confirmed _ who I was to you, kid, but I’m not on the job right now, I’m in my home, you can just call me ‘Hank’, alright?”

 

900 still keeps eye contact even if they seem to wince a little. Their shoulder hunch ever so slightly at the suggestion.

 

“Are you sure?”

 

“Yeah, go for it,” He gives a curt nod. “like I said; I ain’t on the job. It’s not gonna bother me if you refer to me by my first name- hell- it wouldn’t bother me even if I  _ was _ on the job and you did that.”

 

900 nods back.

 

“Alright...Hank...I’ll make sure to do something until you’re next ready to speak…”

 

“Good, cuz It’ll save me a lot of headache knowing you’re keeping busy and not skulking around the place like some ghost. When I wake up though we’re having a really long chat about some things because I’ve definitely answered a hell of a lotta questions from you the past day or so and I think it’s your turn to answer some questions from me.” 

 

Hanks tone turns serious and he makes sure to have the androids attention as he continues because he intends for his next words to be important. 900 looks slightly skittish as the tone of the conversation changes drastically.

 

“ _ Especially _ about how you even know me in the first place. Like, no offense kid, but you showing up outta the blue and being all blank is  _ kinda _ suspicious. I’ve dealt with a similar situation to this before with another android and it almost went to fuckin’ hell but I’ve decided to give  _ you _ the benefit of the doubt and trust you cuz bein’ prejudice isn’t gonna help nobody. I’m being hospitallitable and letting you stay in from the cold and shit cuz you’ve been nice to me back but I’m  _ reeaally _ hoping I don’t have to do something I regret or have to rethink everything I’ve come to know about you so far.”

 

900 grimaces and finally looks away. They have the decency to show fear at the implication of his words but then their features morph into those of determination and they look straight back into Hank’s now steely gaze. 

 

“I promise to you Hank that I’m not a threat. Everything I’ve done and said so far is genuine and I’m just as _ confused and apprehensive _ as you are. I r _ eally _ do appreciate the concern, generosity and how trusting you have been with me and even if I don’t know what happened with you and the other android, you can trust me...and if I’m being honest with myself right now…I didn’t expect you to be of any help at all.” 

 

Hank blinks at the last sentence but lets them continue, knowing that if he interupts now he might ruin the flow of things. Whilst this conversation would probably be better had later in the day when he wasn’t as tired...there’s always no time like the present to talk things out if the android is willing. He folds his arms and watches intently as they speak and shed just a little light on the situation. 

 

“I...went out on a whim...looking for you was the only option I had so it was either...stay out in the cold with no idea what  _ on earth I was doing... _ and probably...I don’t know? Freeze? Or-or come looking for you...and...find…” They pause.

 

Hank can see through the cracks in their demeanor instantly; trying to reassure Hank of their truthfulness and bringing up the truths of their origin that have been untold thus far; to back up their statement and also so suddenly as well; is definitely trying  _ and succeeding _ at taking its toll on them. Their awkward speech pattern has returned and the more 900 talks the more their burst of bravery seems to slip and the less enthusiastic they sound. 

 

They squeeze their eyes closed and shake their head. With thoughts now racing they let out an irritated sigh as their eyelids pop back open, their sadness now suddenly turning into anger. Their shoulders and back hunch and their fingers dig into the black fabric of their shirt; hard enough to rip. Hank takes takes a tentative step forward as concern suddenly overtakes him and he goes to speak but they interrupt his chance and start ranting.

 

“Ughh! I don’t know! I really don’t know what I’d find coming to you and I’m just so- fed up of not knowing anything! Everything you’ve told me so far- what you’ve said about Markus and the government and about what happened in...in Detroit was so- incredibly helpful! But you even said it yourself, Hank!” 

They whip their right palm up to motion to him, a sad grin not making its way up their face as they become distressed but keep on going, their emotional outburst unwilling to stop and their voice thick with emotion. They sound close to crying. “I’m blank! Empty! I don’t know anything about anyone or even myself! I haven’t thought about it until this very moment but do you know how absolutely, infuriatingly, frustrating it is to not have the answer to something?!”

 

Their arms whip away from their body, making a fast sweeping motion that cuts through the air so fast it makes a noise that Hank flinches away from but he doesn’t step back.

 

“Kid…” He tries softly, his eyebrows furrow as he reaches out a hand and grabs one of their shoulders but they still don’t stop.

 

“Having to go for so long with no-one to talk to because you don’t know anyone? Because you’re afraid you’ll do something wrong? Because you don’t know what’s going on _at all?_ I was out there for weeks, Hank! _Weeks!_ Alone, confused, cold, _scared!!_ I was _so scared!_ But I couldn’t allow myself to freeze up- stop moving- ask for help because what if something were to happen?! What if I was next? There were just- bodies- _everywhere on the streets and the walls there was blood-_ There was so much carnage and chaos going on around me and I had absolutely no- **_fucking_** clue what was going on!” 

 

900 almost spits the swear out as the anger and frustration finally hits breaking point. Tears spill from their eyes and down their cheeks so fast that it takes only a few seconds before the droplets are hitting the tiled floor and at the motion Hank’s instantly pulling them forward into his chest. He wraps his arms around them in a hug and whispers a ‘Jesus Christ’ into their hair once they drop their head to his shoulder. 900 makes no motion to return the hug but they also don’t move away either so they just end up laying limp in Hanks hold as he rubs a slow circle into their back. The motion helps sooth them slightly but they still have things to they want to say; the angers still there; hot and angry and overwhelming and the only thing they can think to do is shout it all out into the older mans shoulder.

 

“I hate it! I hate it- I hate it- I hate it! I hate what I saw and that I don’t know who I am! I just want to know who I am! Why is that so hard?! Why didn’t I know everything from the start?! What’s fucking wrong with me?!”

 

“Hey! Hey...easy now, kid, easy...let it all out, it’s okay…just breathe...” 

 

Finally dragging their hands up to grip into the fabric of Hanks dressing gown; 900 finds its soft to the touch and they rub their fingers against it lightly as they drag in breaths of air; hiccuping every so often when they try to swallow through the pain and anger. They’re feeling strangely dizzy and the world is spinning and their thirium pump is beating way too hard to be normal. The outburst has left them gasping for well needed air and it’s takes a very long set of minutes of silence only filled by muffled crying for the feelings to subside. 

 

The anger and sadness 900 had felt before is replaced by a strange hollow feeling in their chest and it’s only then that they finally realise their legs are suddenly feeling very heavy as a sudden exhaustion rolls over them after their “heartbeat” stabilized. They wheeze slightly and squeeze their wet eyes together tight in concentration to try and not drop right then and there. After a few more deep breaths they try speaking again and end up muffled in the fabric.

 

“Hhh- Hank…?”

 

The entire time Hank hasn’t let go and has kept up the motion of smoothing comforting circles into 900’s back. He stops the movements for only a second when they speak and moves his head just slightly.

 

“Hm?”

 

“‘Mm gonna...coll-collapse...”

 

“Huh?”

 

And collapse they did.

 

Hank catches 900 with a surprised gasp and a huff of air is forced from his lungs as their legs give out on them, they grab as tight as possible to his sleeves, albeit awkwardly, with what little strength they can find in their body to not fall all the way but they hang almost dead weight in his arms as he tries to maneuver them in his grip.

 

“Fuck- a lil more warning next time, kid…” He mutters half heartedly, pushing his arms under 900’s armpits to grab at their shirt and drag them across the floor whilst walking backwards.

 

“S-sorry…”

 

“There’s nothing to be sorry for okay? Especially after everything that was just said."

 

"..."

 

" _Ok?_ ”"

 

“...Okay…”

 

“Good, now you just uh...hang on tight I’ll get you somewhere comfortable to lie down…”

 

“Mh.”

 

900 closes their eyes as Hank continues to drag them across the floor, he flicks the light switch off with his elbow as he passes by and makes the move towards his bedroom. The doors still open from earlier so he easily drags them both through the doorway until he’s near the bed and grunts once lifting the android high enough to sit them on the matres. It’s bad enough that androids are already heavy but an android that’s over 6ft, is built almost like a truck and is dead weight in your arms? Literally like carrying a sack of bricks. 

 

Once seated, 900 opens their dreary eyes and takes in the room around them. Hank turns on the side lamp so the room is lit before he lets out a sigh and turns back to them. They look incredibly exhausted; sleepy almost. Their eyes are droopy and red and they’ve hunched forward on the bed with their hands limp in their lap. Perhaps they wouldn’t have to find anything to occupy themself with tonight after all and sleep would happily take them. Hank lets out another sigh before speaking softly to them.

 

“Alright...I know a lot of what just happened was probably a first for you, and that’s okay because emotions suck and its best to get everything all out in the open like you just did, but you went through  _ a lot _ real fast and look ready to conk out so it’d be best if we speak about all this later, yeah?”

 

900 nods their head slowly.

 

“Okay, good. Um...hey do you want something softer to wear? If you’re gonna lay down and snooze it’d be better to wear some pj’s or summit, you’re gonna crease up that nice shirt of yours.”

 

Hank can see a small smile tug at the sides of 900’s lips but it’s gone before anything else can be made out of it. They nod once more however and reach up to slowly start unbuttoning said shirt. Hank turns towards his cupboards to grab something for them.

 

“You’re like....the same size as me so whatever I have should fit you fine. You got any preferences, kid?” He looks over his shoulder to see if 900 will answer.

 

They nod sleepily once again and mumble “Long sleeves…” and that’s all Hank really needed anyway.

 

He fumbles around in his cupboard and finally pulls out a grey, long sleeved jumper. It’s thin so it shouldn’t overheat 900 but its fleecy enough that they won’t get too cold with how the weather is outside. The cupboard doors slides shut with a small click and Hank brings the clothing item back to the bed where 900 has undone all the buttons on their shirt and is half heartedly pulling it off with their eyes closed. Hank smirks.

 

“Need a hand, kid?”

 

900 shakes out a no and finally pulls the shirt from their sluggish arms, becoming more drowsy and sleepy looking by the second. Hank’s never seen an android like this before, although that’s not saying much since the only android he’s really only ever spent a lot of time around is Connor, and he always made sure to keep topped up on power and had a good handle on his emotions so maybe it’s actually a common thing around newly deviated androids to get so drained after an outburst? 

 

Who knows, he’d just have to find out whenever 900 does.

 

“Here, slip this on then you can pass out. Lord knows you’re gonna need it; looks like you got drained of electricity or summit.” Hank hands them the shirt with a smile.

 

900 takes the shirt slowly and it’s a few seconds of awkward fumbling later before they manage to slip the item over their head, push their arms through the sleeves and smooth the item down their chest, but once it’s on they let out a smile. Their eyes have long since slipped shut and it doesn’t look like they’re going to open them again soon but it doesn’t really matter if they’re now ready to sleep. Without any other reason to be sitting upright 900 lets themself fall down sideways onto the bed with a heavy flop and squashes their face into the soft pillow. Whilst Hank had been looking for something for them to wear they’d wiped away any lasting wetness on their face so as to not ruin Hank’s bedding but there’s no way of denying that his dressing gown wouldn’t need a good clean after all of 900’s tears got soaked into the shoulder area.

 

“Rest easy, kid. I’ll be here if you need anything, ok?” Hank reassures them with a pat on their shoulder.

 

They nod into the pillow and give a lazy thumbs up.

 

“Thanmbs.” Is all they manage to mumble in return before their body finally gives out and their sleep cycle over takes them.

 

Hank turns off the bedside light and watches over them for a few moments with a sad smile, just to make sure they’re resting properly, before making his way to the living room once more. He closes the door to the bedroom behind him as to not wake 900 in some way and finds his phone on the living room table. The screen is blinding once against the darkness of the living room; making him squint; but his eyes have adjusted by now and it’s best he makes this call sooner rather than later. Besides, sunlight has already started to stream in through the window. 

 

Maybe he should close the curtains…

 

He finds the contact he needs in his phone and walks over to the window as it rings. Looking at the time in the corner of the phones screen it’s now about 7:30 in the morning; definitely way too early for him to be up and probably too earlier for him to be making a phone call. He slides the curtains shut with a grimace just as he’s considering dropping the call and ringing again at a more reasonable time but then the ring stops halfway and Hank can hear the ambient noise of voices on the other end.

 

“Hello? Hank is that you?”

 

He smiles at the familiar voice.

 

“Heya Connor, hope you’re doing well over there…”

 

“Oh! Yes! It’s been much better than I thought it would be! I’m glad to hear from you again! But-  its...past 7:30 in the morning? Are you alright?”

 

Hank snorts at the sudden concern, as if him being up at such an early time of day was something to be worried about. Well sometimes it was- but that's besides the point…

 

“Yeah I’m fine- but, son, listen there’s uhhh...there’s something important you really need to hear about…”

 


End file.
